


Sometimes It Comes Down to a Choice

by fanfics_await_you



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Angst, Dumbasses, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Injury, Mild Blood, Mutual Pining, post-red angel but also the gang's still together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 18:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17903228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanfics_await_you/pseuds/fanfics_await_you
Summary: Alina has always carried a secret flame for her Captain and she's always known that it could never lead anywhere. However, the combination of a party and some drunken words might just make that a little more complicated. The only problem, everything just seems to be going wrong. Who knows, maybe a proper goodbye is just what they need.





	1. If You Only Knew

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place at some point in the future after the events of the Red Angel (and assumes that Chris stays with Discovery and Discovery is now etc)
> 
> Notes: Head Tactical Officer is a made-up position as far as I’m aware, Alina just needed to be high in the chain of command, ya know? also, surely the loading bay is the only place large enough for a party for the whole crew? like, Discovery is a big-ass ship

“You’re starting to be ridiculous, Captain.”

“First of all, Osborne, I hardly call it ‘ridiculous’. Secondly, most tactical officers refrain from insulting their superiors.”

“Now you’re just avoiding the conversation.”

Pike just rolls his eyes and resumes reading the holopad before him.

“Because that’s any better?…Sir.”

His exasperation is accentuated by a small sigh, “I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.

“It’s just a party!”

—

_I’m not exactly sure who first came up with the idea but the ship was abuzz as soon as whispers of a ‘social gathering’ started. I first heard of it from Tilly, in her usual manner._

“You’ll ask the Captain, won’t you?”

“Hello Tilly.

“Yeah, hi Alina. You’re going to ask about the party? I was talking with the others and we all reckon you’re the best bet because you’re totally Pike’s favourite and if he’s going to say yes to anyone, it’ll-”

I raise my hand to stem the flow of words, “Tilly, I’m going to need to some more context. What party? And I am **not** the Captain’s favourite, we’re colleagues, and you need to stop saying that, you’re going to get me in trouble.”

“…Sorry. So, someone had the  excellent idea to have a party on Discovery! With everything that’s happened, a party is what everyone needs! We’re not at war anymore and most of us didn’t even get a real break between expeditions, so why not have a little fun?”

As a tactician, a party sounds like an unnecessary risk. As an officer, I can see the benefits of giving the crew a break. As a person who has been looking at the world through a paranoid lens for a long time, a respite sounded like paradise.

 “…I won’t make any promises, Tilly. It will be totally up to the Captain’s discretion. If he says no, that’s it, we move on.”

The air whooshes out of my lungs as she tackles me into a bear hug, “Ah, you’re the best, Alina! I know you can convince him!”

With a smile, I hug her back and then turn to resume walking. I move to wave my goodbyes but Tilly responds with a wink.

“After all, how can the Captain say no to his favourite!"

“Tilly!”

—

Pike still doesn’t seemed convinced, “Look, I would love for my crew to relax, but surely you of all people understand how this could go wrong.”

Aha, I’d prepared for this. 

“Captain, it’ll be no more risky than when the ship’s running in night mode. The computer will be the first line of information and there’ll be a rotating skeleton crew monitoring the situation. Also, Commander Saru has already volunteered to remain sober should a commanding officer be required. Then, worst case scenario is a bunch of hangovers and some embarrassing memories. We have fun, then move on and get on with the job.”

He sighs again but this time I can’t miss the amusement in his eyes. The Captain’s eyes search mine for a moment and I try to ignore the prickling sensation that nosedives along my spine. Finally, his face breaks into a smile that I return before I can even think.

“You’re not going to let me say no, are you Tactical Officer Osborne?” Pike’s tone is joking and gentle in a way that electrifies my heart. 

I give a little bow, “Captain, I’m glad you know me so well.”

He laughs quietly and shakes his head a little, reminding just how easily he can mesmerise me. There is something about the way that even soft laughter lights up his eyes which leaves me entranced. I blink and shove the emotions back to the pit of my stomach which is so full of unwanted feelings that it’s bound to overflow any day now. _Crap, don’t think about that_. 

“I’ll oversee everything, Captain. It will be fine.” 

Pike takes a moment to respond, “I know…I can always rely on you, Alina.”

I nod and turn abruptly to leave, hopefully hiding the blush rising up my neck.

_I can always rely on you, Alina._

 Shit.

* * *

 Everything seemed to be running smoothly. I quickly ran through a mental checklist. 

  _I sent a memo to all the heads of the departments, reminding them to keep their people reasonably in line. Some of the ensigns, lead by Tilly, have done their best to make the loading bay look festive. The music is being handled by Owosekun and Detmer, who apparently have a shared passion for the music scene. People seem to be enjoying themselves. I jus-_

 “I thought everyone was supposed to be taking a break, Osborne.”

 I flinch, knocking over a thankfully empty glass, “Captain!”

 He rights the cup before responding with a smirk, “Good to know that I have such an effect on you.”

  _If only you knew_.

 “I was lost in thought. You surprised me, Captain.”

 He sighs in joke exasperation, “Alina, you’re the one who talked about the importance of ‘the intermingling of ranks to dismiss ideas of social supremacy and create a consolidated sense of unity’. I think we can all each other by our first names.”

 I **had** said that, word for word, during some pitch to the other officers. It’s the fact that Pike even remembers the conversation that catches me off-guard. 

 He mistakes my pause for shyness, “Seriously, I can’t have my officers calling me ‘Captain’ at a party.”

 “Of course, Ca-Chris…”

A gentle smile finds his face before he turns to study the crowd. I admire the line of his jaw and imagine running my fingers along its edge before I catch myself.

“So, are you enjoying yourself, C-Chris?”

Chris looks back at me for a moment before returning his gaze to the crowd, “Our crew looks happy and a red alert hasn’t been called; what more could I ask?”

There’s something incredibly fatigued hiding under his cheery tone that leaves me unsure. As a crew, we treat him as this resolute and invulnerable figure that holds us all up when everything else is falling apart. But…Maybe the captaincy was weighing on him far more than he normally let show. After all, this job leaves its scars on all of us.

“You realise this party is as much for you as it is everyone else? Saru offered to be on call so that you could have relax, Chris. Even captains need to take a break sometimes.”

This time, Chris swings around entirely so that we’re face to face. His eyes are puzzled but kind, and his forehead is wrinkled in uncertainty. I feel my hand move as if to smooth the worry from his bow but I quickly catch myself. 

I gesture towards the crowd with the offending hand, “C’mon Chris. Go laugh, drink, dance. Your crew cares about you, and we want to see you enjoy yourself.”

_I just hope he doesn’t catch how much the ‘we’ sentiment had been meant as an ‘I’._

Chris continues to stare at me, and for a second it seems like something important is going to happen. Then the moment passes and the expression on his face clears. He extends his hand towards me and I give him a look of confusion.

Chris smiles, “I only go if you go.”

I jokingly roll my eyes but step towards him. He swings around to place a strong hand on my shoulder, gently tucking me against him and guiding me towards the crowd. Chris keeps lightly brushing against me while he talks and every touch is setting my nerves on fire.

_Why do I get a feeling this is going to be a long night?_


	2. Anything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol, because i’m such a cliche, this situation is loosely based on an interaction w an ex. also, sorry if they seem like coherent drunks but i thought this was better then just them just smashed and the ensuing “WELL YOU’RE PRETTY GOOD LOOKING, YOU KNO- *barf*” Let’s just take the angle of liquid bravery. also, i say pike smiles a lot because he DOES. he’s very SMILEY.

_Why do I always put myself in these situations?!_

I had told myself at the beginning of the night that 1) don’t get drunk because alcohol makes you talkative and 2) stay away from the Captain because alcohol makes you talkative. I have already failed on all points. We just keep drifting together no matter what I do, and the combination of over-keen pourers and nerves in general means that I am _far_ more intoxicated than I planned. 

“Look, I’m telling you Michael, it was life or death.”

“I would believe you, sir, but I have found that you are prone to exaggeration.”

“That stings, Burnham, it really does.”

On the other hand, Chris has never looked so good. A broad, warm smile rests comfortably on his face and only the touch of red across his cheeks hints that he’s been drinking. His eyes shine as he and Michael continue their back and forth. I’m not really listening to their conversation despite its volume. I am just happy to watch my people laugh and my Captain relax. 

“Alina, back me up here!”

I’m forcefully jolted back into focus by all eyes in the conversation turning to me. I grin somewhat bashfully and mumble out a ‘yeah, sure’, entirely unaware of what I’m agreeing to. Everyone laughs at my confusion except for Chris, who gives me a quiet smile that is meant for only me. 

“Now Captain, that is unfair. Of course Osborne would agree with you,” Michael’s tone is gently mocking.

I raise an eyebrow at her, trying to fight the blush rising up my face. She raises her hands in mock surrender but the smile doesn’t disappear. I down the rest of my drink, though it’s not lost on me that it does nothing to remove Michael’s gaze.

“Uh…Of course, I should be able to rely on my officers to support me!” Chris’ tone is joking but the red on his cheeks deepens markedly.

_Huh._

The conversation eventually falls back into rhythms but I feel a touch at my shoulder after a few minutes. 

“Osborne, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah, sure Burnham.”

We step away from the group and I turn to face her. I know she’s been drinking but her usual friendly but stoic facade remains in place. I cross my arms, waiting for Michael to speak.

“What is going on between you two?”

Ah, the question I  really don’t want to deal with right now.

“Nothing!"

…

“Seriously, Michael, there’s nothing!”

“Okay, we both know that that is not true. You two need to get over whatever this-“ she pauses to gesture between Chris and myself-“ is because the rest of us are just waiting for this to finally be done with. Seriously, you have been running in circles around each other for months!”

The realisation that my little ‘crush’ has been public knowledge for so long completely throws me. I feel so thoroughly exposed that I can’t think for a second. I know that I’m blushing red and hot, and Burnham places a hand on my shoulder.

“I never said it was something to be ashamed of, Alina. Love is nothing to fea-“

“Thanks, Michael, I think I just need a minute.”

I’m probably being rude but honestly, I need to get my thoughts in order. I walk away from the bustle and the music towards the loading bay gateway. There is something I find strangely grounding about knowing that beyond the mere metres of holofield before me, an entire universe of empty space exists beyond my reach or control. I walk behind a storage container and sit slowly, leaning back against the cool metal. The static of my thoughts echoes around my head as I consider the silent stars before me. 

“Are you alright?”

_Of course he would be the one to find me._

I look up at Chris and allow myself the quick luxury of just admiring him. His white shirt is tight across his shoulders and I can see the athletic line of his legs through his charcoal grey slacks. The light of the holofield fights with the general darkness of the bay to paint his face in gentle silver, highlighting the strong strokes of his features. Chris is dressed simple and plain but by the Heavens, he looks as close to perfect as I am capable of understanding. However, his eyes are contorted with concern.

“Yes, don’t worry. It’s just…Michael brought up…some stuff that-it’s complicated, let’s just say that.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not particularly, no.”

Chris sits down beside me, close enough that I can feel the warmth of his skin. Its heat is an unwelcome distraction to my already restless mind. 

“What do you want to talk about, then?”

You stumble, “Um-I don’t know…anything?”

Chris chuckles quietly, “Burnham must’ve really thrown you if you, Alina Osborne, have nothing to say.”

I send him a mock glare that only widens his smile. I look away to the stars and try to think of something. 

_Oh, of course_.

“What about the stars?”

It’s dumb and cliché but they’re the only things coming to mind. I don’t dare look at him, out of fear of judgement or something equally as painful.

“What about them?” his tone is curious and, as I should have expected, kind.

I throw my hand out towards space while I try and find the right words, “Everything! I mean, we’re both Starfleet, so you must’ve felt something pulling you towards the stars too, right? Didn’t you look up and wonder what was out there? Beyond the telescopes and the info-vids? Because I did…Still do. We live in a universe of possibility and mystery, and it makes me sad sometimes that I’ll never get to see it all and-I am rambling, I’m so sorry…We-we should get back.”

A blend of passion and alcohol had just made the words tumble out of me with reckless abandon, and now I’m embarrassed all over again for different reasons. I move to rise but a steady hand on my arm causes me to pause.

“Alina, there’s nowhere I would rather be right now…Stay. Please.”

I resume my seat but I am completely lost for words once again. _Nowhere…_ a little spark of hope flickers into life at the base of my stomach, and for the first time I don’t immediately douse it. Of course, he could mean that he was sick of the crowd or simply interested in talk of stars but…

—

So we talk. We talk endlessly of stars, Starfleet, old friends, history, home, and everything in between until the growing quiet tells us that the party is drawing to a close. Chris is so deeply thoughtful and intelligent that I could speak to him for days or years, and never run out of things to say. I am so desperate to hang on to this conversation, this carved-out moment that is so distinctly _our’s_. He seems no more keen to leave than I am, but I can feel our time running short.

“What was that festival from your homeworld called again? Haal’i? You never did explain it.”

“Hal’ai. It’s kinda complicated to explain. Once day a year, no one uses electric lights for the whole day across the whole planet. It-“

“You’re telling me that **everyone** does it without fail?”

I wave my hand offhandedly, “Ok, fine. **Nearly** everyone. Just all the people in any form of settlement, but maybe there’s some hermits who use the occasional torch. Happy?” I raise an eyebrow while Chris grins in return.

“Yes, thank you. You know I’m a stickler for the details.”

“May I continue?

“If you would, please.”

I give him a joking side-look but turn my gaze back to the stars, “As I was saying, we turn off all the lights. The whole idea of Hal’ai is to sit in true darkness and look to the stars. It’s supposed to remind us of the true beauty of nature and our responsibility to the life around us. I always loved that concept, but also the profound feeling of Hal’ai that we’re part of something so much **bigger** that ourselves. It’s a feeling I’ve only ever found in one other place.”

“Where?” Chris’ word is whispered, like he’s afraid to break the reverie.

I smile wide, at no one in particular at all, “Starfleet. On board the _U.S.S. Discovery_. Standing by your side.”

I turn back to Chris, not caring if I seem absurd because I’m swept up in my love for my home, my vessel and, possibly most of all, him. Not that it matters, because the grin stretched across his face tells me that he knows exactly what I mean. Before I can react, before I can even close my eyes, Chris’ mouth is on mine. His lips are velvety and warm, and I can feel his hands hot against my cheeks. He tastes ever-so-slightly of liquor but I am intoxicated by the feeling of his skin flush against mine. Eventually, my brain catches up and I push back against him, trying to drown in the feeling of his mouth. I lean into Chris, my own hands beginning to travel up his chest, when he abruptly pauses and pulls away. I am left like an astronaut without air, simply grasping for oxygen and a tether.

“I’m sorry, I-I shouldn’t have done that.”

_What?_

**_What?!_ **

“I don’t understand, Chris. What did I-“

“You didn’t do anything, Alina, I just-I’m your captain, and you’re my officer!”

He’s become somewhat frantic, pushing his hair back repeatedly while looking anywhere but at me. The realisation is beginning to sink in, piece by piece. Surprisingly, something that resembles anger is what rises to the surface.

“I’m going to need a little more than that, Chris.”

He looks back at me and all I can see is the distress in his eyes, “It’s not that I don’t want this, it’s- it can’t happen! Not with our jobs, with our positions!”

I can’t find the words. After everything, Chris feels the same as me ( ** _he feels the same_** ), but he’s letting our _jobs-_

“What are you talking about?!” The anger is showing now, “ _Our jobs_?! Like a captain and an officer have never-it’s not-I don’t…Look, if you want pin this on drunken stupidity, **fine** , but don’t lie to me!”

Chris’ face goes slack and he leans in until our foreheads are touching and I can his breath on my lips. As much as anger still charges through my veins, I am paralysed by the touch of him. He takes a breath and then another, like he’s trying to find the strength to speak.

“Alina…” Chris says my name like I might disappear. “Never think that I don’t care about you, that I wouldn’t give you the world if I could. It’s just-I have a responsibility to my crew and I can’t let you change that. I can’t put your life above the rest of my crew. If it comes down to saving you or my crew, I can’t-“

The anger drains out of me like it was never there to begin with. A bone-deep weariness is starting to take its place. 

“That’s what this is about? Some theoretical future where you have to choose me or them? Chris, _please,_ ** _don’t_**.”

“I should never have kissed you, as much as I wanted to. I thought I could control myself and then you started talking about stars and us, and…I am so sorry it came to this.” He tucks a strand behind my ear, and the little gesture almost breaks me. 

I swallow back whatever is threatening to rise, “Since it seems like I don’t get a say in this-don’t, let me finish-just do one last thing for me.”

“Anything.”

“Kiss me one last time and then walk away. Prove to me that you can leave and not come back because I need you to be sure, Chris. If you go…I won’t sit around, waiting for you to come back. I can’t hold on to you, hoping that one day you’ll choose me.”

Chris pulls back and pushes his palms onto his eyes while shaking his head like he can’t believe this is happening. Every line of tension in his body screams anguish and _I don’t get it_ because Chris is choosing this. I am desperate for him and he is pushing me away.

He places his hand on my cheek and I can’t help but lean into him. “You don’t understand…That’s the problem, Alina. I want to choose you, I will always want to choose you, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

Chris leans in slowly and I close my eyes as our lips touch. I place both hands on his chest while he threads his arms around my waist, gently pulling me flush against him. The kiss is as soft as an echo and as sweet as it is bitter. Inch by inch, my hands climb to intertwine in Chris’ hair and I can feel him shiver slightly against me. I want to remember every second of this, every short moment of Chris being completely mine. But then, too soon, far too soon, he’s pulling back slightly. His hands continue to draw flickering circles along my waist while Chris just studies my face and I wait for him to say that he’s changed his mind, that he can’t leave. 

“Maybe in another life.”

Chris leans in to place a gentle, lingering kiss on my forehead, then turns around and walks away

Just like that.

Just like that, I had held him and lost him, all in the space of a few hours. A feeling of intense loss swiftly crashes over me and I have to cover my mouth to silence the sobs. I lean back and just let the tears fall for a while, let my heart feel this loss. Then, when I finally find the strength, I slowly rise and stand, staring out the stars. Then, as alone as I had started this evening, I steadily walk back to my room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’m always a slut for unnecessary tension. also, DON’T WORRY, THERE’S ANOTHER PART


	3. I Will Find You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry everyone, uni's just gone back so I've been pretty busy. ALSO, weapons =/ explosives…this will be relevant… And yes, I borrowed a line because it is a beautiful and very fitting line! you'll know it when you see it, lol. this chapter turned out hella long so i cut it in half. the 'proper' tension's in the next part.
> 
> Thank you everyone for the kind words and support!

"So…" as no innocent sentence ever starts.

"What did you and the captain get up to last night?" Tilly suggestively bumps me with her elbow while winking.

I can tell she's attempting to be quiet but the buzz of the room abruptly drops as the crew's super-sense for gossip goes off. Out of the corner of my eye ( _because I wasn't looking at him,_ ** _I swear_** ), I see Ch-the captain flinch. I intervene before he has the chance to badly lie.

"Now before anyone gets too excited, prepare yourself for disappointment. I may have gotten a little too drunk—no thanks to you Tilly, I might add, with your Holpian cocktails—and excused myself. The captain kindly offered to walk me back to my quarters and then  **continued**  on his way. Who knows, maybe the captain got up to some mischief afterwards but the only thing I'm regretting this morning is my headache." I emphasise the word, hoping that my lie is sturdy enough.

The chorus of laughs and steady return of the room's hum signals that I've convinced most of the crew. The squinted appraisal that Tilly continues to give me makes it obvious that she's not so satisfied. I am  _praying_  that she drops it because the thought of him is already clawing at my stomach and it feels like I'm about to start bleeding. Tilly opens her mouth to protest and I brace myself.

"Tilly, I spoke to Alina right before she left. She was feeling unwell and I watched the captain escort her out. There is no mystery except for how you managed to get Holpian liquor on this ship…how  **did**  you manage that?"

Michael, you absolute _angel._

Tilly looks slightly bashful, "I…am going to go back to my station. Good luck with that headache, Alina."

I look to Michael to thank her but her quietly sympathetic expression smothers my words; she's obviously connected enough of the dots. I swallow the tears that scratch at my throat as Michael places a comforting hand on my arm before she returns to her post. Instinctively, I look to the captain's chair to find him already looking at me. I avert my gaze immediately but steel myself as I hear approaching footsteps. I lock my eyes on the screen before me.

"…Alina-"

"We're in a professional setting, Captain, I would prefer Osborne," my tone is cutting, likely far more than he deserves.

It would seem that no one else hears me but I sense him flinch like I've struck him.

_I will always want to choose you._

_Maybe in another life._

"Can I help you, Captain?" My tongue is icy sharp.

"Alina-"

"I made myself clear."  _Stop it_.

His weary sigh is like a punch.

His voice is almost imperceptibly soft, "I don't want to lose you entirely. I couldn't bea-"

"I'm not going anywhere…I am your Tactical Officer and I will continue to perform my duties. After all, it's duty first, right Captain?"

I'm being cruel at this point like somehow it will right things or make me feel better. It's not working because the glimpse I steal of his face only further opens the pit in my stomach. Speechless pain is woven across his face as clearly as lightning, and the feeling that I inflicted it is indescribable. Without another word, he nods slightly and turns back towards his chair. This feels even more like a goodbye than last night; there is something so uglily final about the sensation settling in my heart.

* * *

We speak sparingly for weeks. I've gone from trying to spend every moment with him to barely acknowledging the man that works mere feet from me. The crew must have noticed the change but thankfully have had the tact not to ask about it. However, the gaping hollow continues to grow in my stomach with every glance of him and whisper of his voice inching it wider. Sometimes I wondered how it doesn't just consume me. But I won't let it. I am Alina Osborne, Head Tactical Officer of U.S.S. Discovery. Even if I feel like I'm falling apart, I do not break. I will not break.

* * *

"Michael, you  _need_ **to go**!"

"I will not let you do this, Alina!"

"Well, someone has to do it and it is not going to be you, Burnham!"

Their pounding on the door behind us continues to grow louder with my heartbeat. The door is reinforced but I know it won't last forever. Time is running out to escape or decide but I can't leave. Not yet. This weapons cache threatens entire planets and it has to be destroyed from the inside out. Unfortunately, the self-destruct button requires a living hand on it for the duration of the countdown. That is to say, someone needs to wait here, deep underground, for everything to come tumbling down.

"Osborne, Burnham, report! What's happening?!"

The captain…

Chris.

Rationally, I am fully aware that we can never be. Irrationally, his voice is still a reminder of everything I am going to lose.

"We can blow the place, but-" I almost can't bring myself to say it-"someone needs to stay."

His voice erratic, distressed, "For how long? To set the charge?"

Michael finds the courage I can't, "No, Captain, someone needs to stay until the charge goes off. It's the only way."

There is an awful, cavernous silence.

"…This is not worth the life of my crew."

I splutter, "Respectfully, Captain, these weapons  **cannot**  remain in these men's hands! We will never get another chance to take out their entire arsenal!"

His tone is unwavering steel, "We'll find  **another way**. This is an official order, retreat."

I look to Michael and see the conflict painted across her features. It's in this moment I make a decision.  _I won't let her suffer for this._

"Understood, Captain. Burnham, let's go, they're gonna break through at any moment!" I quickly steer her towards the other door.

I grab Michael by the arm before she has time to think and her feet slowly start to move. This door leads to the surface, to safety, to life, and for a second, I consider it. I consider running upwards with Michael by my side until we can feel the sunlight on our faces. I consider letting myself break as I hear the palpable relief in my captain's exhale. But I know what these weapons can do and I can't. I just can't.

As Michael passes the door's threshold, I give her a hard shove forward and lock the door before she can recover. She looks back at me through the small window of glass with an expression that can only be described as absolute despair.

"Alina, no! No, no, no! You can't do this! Please! There has to be another way!" Her voice cracks.

I try to smile, "We both know that there's not…you need to go, my friend. It's going to be okay, Michael, but I need you to let me do this."

She bangs her fist against the glass but it doesn't so much as budge. Tears are streaming down both our cheeks.

"Alina, Michael, what's going on?"

Again, his voice is a cutting reminder of this action's cost.

"Alina has locked herself in the room! I can't get in! She's going to set off the self-destruct!"

That terrible silence returns and it's like I can feel the grief of my crew all the way from here.

"Alina-"

"There's no other way."

"Please-"

My words go almost inaudibly soft, "There is no other way."

"There has to be."

Despite everything, I smile because despite everything, I love Chris. I love his compassion, his determination, his loyalty, his curiosity, and all the things that make him incredible. His channel suddenly dissolves into a fury of orders and directives so I turn my thoughts back to Burnham. She's still standing before me, begging me to just open the damn door. I place my hand against the door and slowly move my hand into the Vulcan salute.

"Live long and prosper, Michael Burnham. You deserve it."

She looks away for a moment in pain, shaking her head like she can't bear to say goodbye, before turning back to me. With a violently shaking hand, Michael moves into the salute against the glass. Our eyes meet and we share a tight, watery smile.

"Goodbye, Michael. You better look after our crew, otherwise you're gonna have to answer to me. Now…it's time to go."

"I'll see you on the other side, Osborne."

I nod but don't withdraw my hand as she takes that first step backwards, still staring at me. It's not until Michael turns around to run that I step away from the door. The green pulsating light of the button looms on the edge of my vision. Before I can consider, before I can flee, I take three steps and slam my hand down. A screeching alarm and countdown that gives me 60 seconds left to live tells me all I need to know. I close my eyes. I had never thought it would be like this but then again, I don't think anyone ever does. The battering against the door is even louder now but I can almost taste their desperation and fear. I'm certain their senses of self-preservation will take over soon.

"Alina, don't do this!"

He's really making this more difficult than it needs to be. It would be so much easier to give in without the memory of his skin on mine pushing at the edge of my consciousness.  _What I would give to kiss him one last time_.

"I'm doing what I need to do," I sound so, so weary.

"Please, we're working on it. We'll find another way to destroy the weapons." He's trying to sweeten his voice, to convince me that I can leave.  _The asshole._

I let out a breathy chuckle, "Let's be honest, Burnham and I would never have been here if there was another way."

The quiet curse confirms my point.

I allow a softness into my tone, "Chris…it's just too important let this one go. One life for the millions it will save…I'd say that's a pretty good deal."

"But it's you! It's your life!"

"This is my choice, not your's-" I pause for a moment, the irony almost painful-"That's what you didn't understand…I would never make you choose."

He doesn't say anything but I can picture him, his head in his hands and trying to think of some brilliant last-minute scheme. The thought is a small comfort. The metallic pounding has also stopped, which is a relief. However, the shrill alarm continues grow and fade in time with my breath.

There's still so much I need to say but can't or won't find the words. So I say all that I can say.

"It's been my honour to serve by your side. I couldn't have asked for a better crew or captain-" I take a second to compose myself and keep the sobs back-"It's going to be ok, I promise. After all, part of the journey is the end."

'30 seconds' flashes before me and I finally let the tears fall because I don't want to die, not by any measure. I whisper a prayer; for something after, for peace, for their comfort (maybe a little bit for salvation).

"Alina, I won't try and convince you but please…When the countdown goes off, run like absolute hell. It's a shot in the dark but it's a chance…we'll find you."

I let out a watery laugh because Chris' voice is steady for my sake and hopeful because he's a good man.

"Will do, Captain."

I watch the numbers plunge, quicker and quicker as each passes. I am more afraid than I can comprehend.

"I will find you."

My vision blurs as I fail to choke back a sob.  _I would truly give anything just to have him here, holding my hand, as the world ends._

"Thank you for everything, Chris…one day, in another life, we will meet again…I look forward to it."

His response is swallowed by adrenaline as the final numbers tick down.

_4…_

I unlock the door from the panel in front of me.

_3…_

I steady my feet on the floor to the gentle whoosh of the door opening.

_2…_

I turn towards the ever-so-distant sky.

_1…_

I allow myself a deep breath before the sky falls.

_Self-destruct detonated._

I'm off like a shot. As I run fear rises in my throat that the sequence hasn't worked, that I have to turn back, but a quiver beneath me kills that dread only to replace it with another. An almost inaudible rumbling resonates through my chest in a deep hum that is only comparable to the moment before a tsunami comes crashing down. I just keep going and going and going, ignoring the chunks falling around me and the shouts through my intercom. The world is shaking itself apart and the tunnel is crumbling into increasingly large pieces. I'm beginning to have to dodge the rocks strewn across my path and plummeting from above. I can't taste fresh air or see sunlight and I have no idea how far I am from the surface, but I will not stop. I will run until there's no more road. However, my stride is starting to lag as my adrenaline runs dry and the growing number of gashes on my limbs saps my strength. I keep pushing onwards and upwards until I see something in the distance. It might just be the tunnel levelling out, or it could be an especially bright artificial light but it could be-

_CRACK_

It's almost funny that hope can be killed as quickly as it can bloom.

The glance I spare upwards reveals lightning-like ruptures growing across the ceiling in front of me. I gather everything I have left, every love and dream and miracle, to propel me forward. My feet barely even touch the ground, I'm running faster than I ever have. I'm getting closer and closer as the fissures continue to hiss and disintegrate. I c-

Something heavy and sharp hits me directly on the forehead and I come tumbling down like I'm nothing more than clay. For a moment, I am nothing. I am nebulous with pain and the great, waiting black. Then I'm awake again, and painful solid rain is pelting down, and my skin is slick with something that smells like metal. I try and rise but the storm keeps pushing me deeper into the ground. The roar of the earth is in my bones and it hurts like fury. Someone is shouting or screaming but I'm not sure if it's me because I know I'm not alone.  _But who's with me, again?_  The answer is waiting just beyond my thoughts and I scramble for it as the world becomes aching lead pressing down on me.  _There are people waiting for me._ I can almost see their faces, a sea of smiling, beautiful faces centred around one in particular. They are familiar yet foreign and I am crying because I miss them even though I don't know they are or where I'm going.  _Who-_

 _My crew_.

Of course. Of course.

Somehow, in spite of the crushing weight on every inch of my body, this little memory is an absolute solace.

_My crew._

Somehow, I know that even though this is the end, it's okay. I needed to leave them behind, I just can't remember why.

_My crew._

Somehow, I know my crew is with me and that's enough. With my fragile shred of peace, I let the waiting dark wash over me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ik I said just one more part and then it turned long so one more part after this :P


	4. I Know You Christopher Pike

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like my characters to be strong and have stories and relationships in their own right. Like, I just don't like writing stories where they justs exist for the romance. I find it…eh. also, i've been without internet so i still haven't seen the finale!
> 
> Also, thank you everyone for the kind reviews and support! I've really appreciated it!

 

**_Ba-bump._ **

**_Ba-bump._ **

**_Ba-bump._ **

All I can grasp is agony. It's in the strands of my DNA, it's the only thing holding me together, it's all I know.

**_Ba-bump._ **

My heartbeat is as loud as a pulsating thunderclap.

**_Ba-bump_**.

I can't move. Not a single finger. I can't tell if it's the pain or the weight of the sky.

**_Ba-bump._ **

Light.

**_Ba-bump._ **

The world becomes a maelstrom of indistinguishable sensations.

**_Ba-_ ** _bump._

Echoing shouts of meaningless sound drill into my skull.

**_Ba-_ ** _bump._

Without warning, someone touches me. A choked shriek more animal than human pierces the air. Somehow, I realise it must be me.

**_Ba_ ** _-bump._

I'm being touched all over and the only reason I don't scream again is because my lungs won't fill.

_Ba-bump._

The thunder is fading.

_Ba-bump._

I can feel the great black swallowing me but I want to stay.

_Ba-bump._

As much as it hurts, I want to stay.

_Ba-bump._

The dark doesn't care. It devours me anyway.

* * *

 

I'm warm.

It's the first feeling that my mind conjures. Slowly, the physicality of the world comes into focus underneath my skin. The tickle of my hair against my neck, the light press of a blanket across my legs, my fingers curling into a weak fist against the sheets; I allow the sensations to wash over me without judgement. The absence of pain is a welcome but deeply alien lightness. Once I've taken some steady breaths and feel sure that I can take whatever lays beyond me, I open my eyes.

A medbay?

_No, not_ **_a_ ** _medbay. I recognise this place._

Everything is still too foggy for thoughts to come easily but any panic that had been growing in my chest dissipates. It's safe and it's home and that's enough.

"Hi Alina."

I turn to blearily look at the man next to me. Dr Culber…

"Hugh?"

His face breaks into a huge smile like I've performed some miracle.

"You have no idea how good it is to see you awake."

…Maybe I have.

"What happened?" He helps me sit up as my muscles ache from disuse.

He scratches his head apprehensively before starting, "I should alert the crew…Shit, the captain."

I shake my head before I find my voice, "No, not yet. I-I need answers first."

Hugh seems unsure but sits next to me on the bed anyway, "I guess there's the question of how much you remember?"

I furrow my brow, "I remember running for the surface and then-" my fingers go to the bandage on my forehead-"something hit me. I went down. Then there was  **a lot**  of pain, and now we're here."

He brushes my hair away from the bandage gently, "It's mostly healed but I wanted to wait for your permission to remove the scar…I know how much they can mean to people."

I nod gently but say nothing.

Hugh continues, "We found you not long after the bunker's collapse. We managed to track your bio-sign and use the Discovery's tractor beam to clear away the debris. Almost all of your bones and organs had sustained trauma and you were clinging onto life. You've been in a coma for four days to give your body time to heal and…"

"To see if I would wake up?"

"Yeah. I knew you would, though. You've always been a fighter, Alina."

He pauses to take a deep breath and it settles like a heavy weight in my throat.

"If you hadn't stayed conscious for so long, or had been much deeper underground or any number of things, we wouldn't have been able to find you. But you'd nearly made it to the surface all by yourself…Your fingers were bloody from trying to climb out."

The quiet admiration on his face is enough to make me tear up. I feel him take my hand.

"You saved yourself, Alina."

A little hiccuping sob sneaks out.

"Not that anyone was surprised by that."

This time, a breathy snort slips out.

A silence settles between us for a little while as Hugh holds my hand and I find my calm.

"Can I go back to my quarters?"

He seems surprised, "I mean, yes, after some tests…People will want to know you're awake."

I close my eyes for a moment, "I know but I-I just can't right now…I need some time to process first. Just say that I'm okay if people ask but that I need some space."

"…I understand…Well, sit still and I'll go get my diagnostic tool."

I lean back against the pillows.

"So, first question: the scar?"

"How does it make me look?"

"Like an absolute badass."

For the first time in a while, I feel a smile curl across my face, "Well then I've got to keep it."

* * *

Sleep is elusive with dreams of my dirt-filled lungs keeping it at bay. So instead I'm sitting by my window and try to piece together some answers from the stars before me. Unfortunately, they're not saying much.

_I survived_.

It just doesn't feel concrete, like this is my mind's final comfort and any minute the world will fall away. Absentmindedly, I trace the thin scar mirroring my eyebrow. If anything, this mark is the only thing grounding me right now.

The gentle ring of the doorbell breaks my trance. I quietly sigh. The ship's day-lighting had flared not long ago; I knew someone would come past soon enough.

"Door."

However, I am not prepared for Chris to be on the other side of the door.

For a couple of seconds, he doesn't move. His expression is somehow two parts admiration, one part grief. I feel the weeks apart slip off my shoulders like sandbags. I don't care that he won't-  _can't_ -choose me. The sliver of me concerned about pride or dignity has melted away. I don't know if this is forgiveness or simply acceptance.

"Chris?" the word is both pleading and unsure.

I stand too quickly and the room becomes painted with technicolour streaks of black. The fear that everything will dissolve into darkness surges up my throat and I squeeze my eyes shut to stave off the panic. Before I can fall, strong hands are holding me upright. Instinctively, my hands go to his shoulders and I lean closer. It's a couple of darting breaths before I can open my eyes. I'm met by vibrant blue eyes lined with warmth and concern.

"Are you alright?" Chris' voice is interwoven with worry.

I nod, unable to find words or take my eyes off him.

The strong grip at my arm and waist are an anchor but I still don't know what to say to him. There's so much that I couldn't say but now can that is haunting the tip of my tongue.

"I am so sorry, Alina."

"No-"

"I should never have pushed you away."

"I-"

"I should never have put you at risk."

"That's-"

"You should never have had to put your life on the line."

"I made-"

"A choice. I know. But-"

"Chris," I cut through his flood of words.

I cautiously brush a thumb across his cheek just to feel his skin. His eyes search mine- for what, I don't know.

"There's no need to apologise. There never was. You've always done what you thought you had to. It's something I've always…respected about you." I don't stop drawing patterns against his cheek.

Chris closes his eyes and lightly leans into my hand. I take the moment to study the lines of his face. The bone-deep weariness drawn across his features cracks something within me and finally the words find a way out.

"When I was down there, waiting for the countdown…I only thought about one thing."

Chris' eyebrows furrow and his eyes open to meet my gaze in silent question.

_What I would give to kiss him one last time_.

_I would truly give anything just to have him here, holding my hand, as the world ends._

I lean forward until our foreheads meet. He gently nudges me back, brushing our noses together, in a familiar, simple movement that ruptures the floodwall. Tears begin to fall before I find the strength to speak.

My voice cracks, "How much I wanted to come back to you."

Chris' hands come to frame my face but I screw my eyes shut. I can't bear to look at him anymore. I can't bear to know that he will always be right there but never mine.

The words cascade out of me without regard, "I know that this can't happen but I  ** _need_**  you to listen, to know what you mean to me. You gave me the strength to stare death in the face. You were the one I wanted to run back to, those weapons be damned. You were the person I wanted by my side when I thought my time was up…I choose you, Chris, even if you can't choose me."

"Alina…"

"Chris,  **please** , I don't want pity, I coul-"

"Sometimes it comes down to a choice," his voice is quiet but steady.

I dare to open my eyes. He bears a tentative smile that I can't help but gently return through the persisting tears.

_Please, please, please._

"Sometimes you make the wrong decision. Sometimes you lose the only thing that ever really mattered and you have to bear that regret for the rest of your life…but sometimes, if you're truly lucky, you get the chance to try again."

The hope in my chest is expanding with every breath. I'm trying to not grin, to not prematurely celebrate a moment that's not yet mine, but I'm failing. Instead, I take one of his hands in mine and gently press it to my mouth in a lingering kiss to hide my budding smile. Chris tucks back a stray strand of my hair as his own grin grows from hesitant to glowing. I am suddenly struck by the symmetry of this moment with the last time we were this close and find myself praying that this story will end differently.

"Alina, it was unfair of me to think that you would ever make me choose between you and our crew. I underestimated you and for that, I am sorry…I also know that I caused you pain and I know that you said you wouldn't wait around for me to come to my senses but-"

I don't let him finish.

I pull Chris tighter against me as I bring his lips to mine. This time he tastes ever-so-slightly of honey and I want to drown in it, in him. He presses back against me like he's the one drowning and it gives me a little thrill that I am so  _wanted_. Chris' hands dig into my shoulder and back, and his strength is probably the only thing keeping me on my feet. I can feel every line of his body against me and the pressure against the aches of my injuries is nothing short of  _delicious_. The fevered beat of Chris' heart echoes beneath my fingers and every pulse further washes away my fears.  _This is real, I am alive, we're going to be okay_. I break away first but the very welcome cage of his arms means I don't go far.

"I know you Christopher Pike, you don't need to apologise to me for trying to do the right thing."

Maybe I'm forgiving or risking more than I should but I love Chris. With every fallible, mortal, and adoring part of me, I love him. He nods, his face still unsure. Gently, I brush my thumb across his brow and smooth out the worry lines before going up on my tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. Chris' arms tighten at my waist but his eyes are bright. He leans in for another kiss but I place a single finger against his lips, making him pause. His puzzled expression is enough to make me laugh but what I need to say sobers me slightly. I take a step back as Chris continues to look on in confusion. Slowly, I place a splayed hand just above his heart and take a moment to admire how alive he feels beneath my fingers before I speak.

"I choose you, Chris. In this life, the next, all of them, whatever I don't care- I choose you. I-I love you."

His expression almost makes me cry again simply because no one has ever looked at me like Chris does, like I put the stars in the sky. Steadily, his hand comes to mirror mine and rest just above my heart.

"I've loved you since you saved me back on Kaminar. I choose you, Alina Osborne, and I'll follow you to the ends of the universe if you let me."

This time when Chris leans in for a kiss, I don't stop him. The taste of his smile against mine is enough to wash away the weight of the world.


End file.
